Feral
by astral flower
Summary: Sometimes the world doesn't need another hero... sometimes what it needs is a monster.
1. Prologue

FERAL

 _Sometimes the world doesn't need another hero, sometimes what it needs is a monster_

* * *

 _Prologue_

Life had not always been this way. It had been good, moral, and decent despite certain events that happened around the world. And for the most part, life had its ups and downs but always became balanced after a while. The outbreak had ultimately caused the world to be knocked off its axis, causing the rest of the survivors to hold on and hope that it would stop sooner or later.

And when it did not, they had to be their own hero. Or monster.

They did unspeakable things to survive. They became their own worst enemies when it came to survival. They had to become monsters to have the promise of tomorrow. It had all boiled down to one question. What lengths would you go in order to survive?

The morals of every single individual flew away in the wind, leaving a stripped down, bare and hungry shell of a person. The hunger to make it just one more day weighed heavily on their shoulders, knowing they would have to go to those lengths in order to beat the world. And sometimes you had to lose yourself to truly discover who you are.

Violet was one of them.


	2. Undertow

Chapter One: Undertow

 _'_ _I'm so tired  
I must get up for air  
But I can't find it  
What's up or what's down out here  
I'm caught in your undertow  
Caught in your undertow'_

 _Undertow – Ane Brun_

The days that came after the deaths of Glenn and Abraham were quiet, thoughtful and sombre. Though their bodies had not returned to Alexandria, nor had their beloveds, there was a sense of solidarity between those who had witnessed their demise. There was a shared understanding of the scenes that had unfolded some hours before, though no one needed to usher a word for the pain was palpable upon their faces, changing their whole demeanour.

The loss of Glenn and Abraham was a devastating one, and one that the whole compound felt. Sadness, guilt and resentment were all felt by every single one of the survivors. They were bitter that a man – who had known nothing about who they were as people, the exciting future that was waiting for them both, and the hope that both had in their hearts – had been taken away from them without a second thought. The man had introduced himself as Negan, and he had been the one to tear the survivors apart.

The evil within his eyes was mixed with pleasure, and it was something that they could not get over. The willingness to bludgeon a man to death so freely was gut-wrenching in every sense. Rick had seen some things in his life but that was something else.

It all seemed like a blur, with each one of them reeling from the events that had occurred. As Negan and his men drove away back to their own compound, the group had no time to mourn. Their need to return home and return to something they were familiar with was crushing. The very fact that they were so far from home made them sick to their stomachs. And so, they bundled the bodies into the RV as gently and respectfully as they could, and drove back to Alexandria in silence.

Maggie Greene and Sasha Williams had come to the decision that they would leave Alexandria and travel with the bodies of Glenn and Abraham to Hilltop. Rick could only agree with them. They needed to do what was best for them, without having the strain of seeing the ghosts of Glenn and Abraham in the streets of Alexandria. Their search for salvation was paramount and Rick could only watch them try and find it.

Alexandria was quiet now. The life and soul of Alexandria was no longer there. The laughter had diminished. The hope had died.

Rick had spent the few days afterwards thinking of ways to make sure Negan paid for what he did. There had been moments of clarity alongside the blinding pain where he would sense them the way he did with Lori. He could not explain it, and he wondered if it was just his mind trying to protect him from the agony of the events. He felt numb. He felt despair for the loss of good men. He felt sadness for the future that was taken away from them.

Daryl worried him. The hunter's actions had always been done with reason, and Daryl had been spending more and more time away from the group. He would leave Alexandria, climbing over the wall and disappearing into the woods without a word to anyone. Rick would watch him from the back window of the house he shared with Michonne, the crossbow on his uninjured shoulder, his head down and his body as small as he could get it. He would watch him leave every morning, and he would wait for him to return when it was dark. No questions would be asked, no words expressed, but a look would be shared. Daryl would always look away, and disappear into the house he had been given.

It was no different today. Rick had woken early before the sun had come up and waited in the spare bedroom. It did not take long before he saw the familiar figure traipse over towards the wall and climb over carefully as to not upset his shoulder further. He noticed Daryl glance over at his window for a split second before focusing on the woods ahead. Rick slipped from the window and climbed back into bed beside Michonne, unaware of the figure following behind Daryl.

* * *

Dawn arrived without a word. Birds tweeted above him as he slithered through the woods, feeling the leaves brush against his body as he ventured further into the wilderness. The comfort he found in the woods had always been there, and it had become a place for him to truly think and feel. It offered him the freedom to just blend in with the trees and animals that took refuge in the woods. He did not need to be anyone. He did not have to be Daryl Dixon any longer.

His footing was light and cautious, his eyes scanned the surrounding area for potential threats. He found none. But his sense of awareness was strong, and he sensed something behind him. He allowed his hearing to focus on his background, and he could pick up footsteps trampling upon the fallen leaves. He pulled his crossbow closer to his body, his muscles tensing as the weapon was poised in his grasp.

He was a fair few steps ahead, and so he found refuge behind a large tree. The sound came closer and closer and within earshot. He lifted his crossbow, his shoulder pulling under the weight, and aimed it at the pursuer. As the footsteps sounded next to him, he stepped out from his position, aiming his weapon at them.

"Jesus, Daryl!" Carol's voice filled the air around him and he lowered the crossbow.

"Why ya followin' me?" he asked hoarsely.

"I'm worried about you," Carol explained. "We're all worried about you."

"Ain't nothin' to worry about," Daryl retorted.

Carol chose not to reply. She just looked at him instead. The dark circles under his eyes were obvious. The paleness of his face was not helped by the eeriness of the early morning. His dark hair was limp and unkempt. The sight of him was worrying for Carol, and she felt her heart tug as she saw the sheer guilt written all over his face.

"Are you sleeping?"

Daryl took a moment to respond then shook his head. Carol looked downcast.

"Are you eating?" she pushed. He looked away with a shake of the head. "I thought so."

"If ya came out here to interrogate me, then ya can go back to Alexandria and leave me alone," Daryl retorted. "I don't need no one, got that? Never had no one, don't need no one."

Carol stared at him with sadness in her eyes before she took a step backwards, defeated. "We're not going away, Daryl. We'll always be here for you."

"Yeah, tell that to Glenn," Daryl seethed. "He died 'cos of me. He should be here. Not me."

Carol shook her head. "Daryl, please…"

"Leave me be!" Daryl growled.

Carol stepped away. She watched as he threw himself further into the woods, his figure vanishing into the bushes. She reluctantly made her way back into Alexandria.

Though the conversation was short, it had riled Daryl up to his very core. The anger and sadness burned his skin, creating invisible scars to form on his skin. He was angry at himself for reacting to Negan in such a way. He was angry with fact that Negan had bludgeoned his friend to death because he had reacted to him. It was as if Negan had been waiting to kill another one of them and he knew he would get a reaction from them by taunting one of their friends. Glenn had died because of him, and the pain was crushing.

It was never ending. There was never a moment that he did not think of what happened: the whoosh of the bat travelling through the air; the crush of Glenn's skull cracking under the force; the laughter escaping Negan as he looked at his masterpiece.

He found the lake he would visit often to clear his head. He sat down on the grass, and allowed his body to lie backwards. He watched the clouds pass above him and his mind drifted away.

Clicking caught his attention, and he tilted his head towards the sound. He sat up, his eyes scanning the area and trying to distinguish what the nature of the sound was. More clicking sounded and he reached for his crossbow.

Something caught his eye in the distance. It was like a snapshot of images passing through the trees. Something whizzed through the wood ahead of the being and he observed the movements. Slow, calculated, steady. He found himself standing and following it, his mind wondering if it was real or his mind was making it up. His feet carried him deeper into the woods, and he holds back once he realises that the person stopped moving.

His eyes never leave them. She turns around and he notices that she's covered from head to toe in dirt and blood. Her hair was congealed together and fixed in a bun. She made a clicking sound with her mouth, and the small whizzing figure he figured out to be a dog raced towards the walker ambling towards her.

She followed slowly after the dog, pulling out a large knife and dispatching another walker stumbling out of the treeline without a struggle. It was almost instinct for her.

Then before he realised, the woods swallowed her up whole and she disappeared from his line of sight.


	3. What We Become

Chapter Two: What We Become

 _'It's not what we became,_  
 _But what we become,_  
 _The cruel can be kind,_  
 _The true can lie,_  
 _It's not how much you love,_  
 _But how much you try'_

 _What We Become – Horse Feathers_

Daryl found himself going out again in the early hours of the morning. It had been a couple of days since he had stumbled across the woman, and he had found himself venturing out into the woods with little to no sleep, an unexplainable urge to free himself of the burden that Alexandria gave him. He could not settle; his attention always wandering to the world outside the gates. As soon as his feet met the soft grass just outside the wall, he instantly felt relieved, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He had always viewed the woods as his home. No matter where the group ended up, it would always call him back, like a mother calling her son in for dinner. He felt safe out in the open, which for some people would be a nightmare. All he needed was his crossbow, a clear head, and his tracking skills, and he would be able to survive. But over time, his need to be alone had disappeared, and he found himself wanting to be around his friends – his family – more. Time was precious in every sense, and recent events had proved just that.

The woods welcomed him with open arms, and he allowed himself to be swallowed up by the overgrown wilderness. Though the moon was visible in the night sky, it weaved in and out of dark thick clouds as he ventured further into the woodland.

Branches scratched his arms, leaves brushed against his face and body, and his feet trudged along the muddy trail.

Then he heard it.

Snuffling along the ground. The sharpening of knives. The crackle of a fire.

He sat on the ground, his eyes finding her through the cover of branches and leaves. Her attention split between the dog and the area around her. The fire offered her some light and warmth against the dark and mild night. The dog returned to her side and settled down, though its ears were pointed up in alert at any movement that could be heard in the distance.

Time was lost as he watched her. She sharpened her knives repeatedly, making sure they nicked the skin of her thumb every time, and lined them up along the bank. He furrowed his brow as he watched her repeat every step as soon as she finished it.

A twig snapped behind him. As he turned to look at Rick who had followed behind him, he returned his gaze to the woman. She was stood now, her eyes scanning the area wearily and vigilantly for any movement. The dog was also on its feet, and Daryl noticed that its full height reached her middle. Its heckles was raised, its ears were standing to attention, and a low growl escaped its mouth.

The woman clicked with her tongue and the dog's growl silenced, its watchful gaze on high alert.

"Watch," she whispered to the dog. She began to pack away her belongings and weapons into her backpack, relying on the dog to protect her as she did so. The two men were hidden enough for their position to not be given away. The woman stood, her face casting one last glance towards the tree line. She clicked once more, and the dog stood to its full height. She stamped the fire out with her heavy boot which cast them into darkness. Embers danced around the distinguished fire. She clicked again, and the dog followed her as she led them away from the area and into the thick bush.

"You see her too?" Daryl's voice was small, childlike.

Rick nodded slowly. "This is where you've been coming?"

Daryl fell silent. He hated to admit that he was struggling with it all. The guilt of potentially being the reason his friend was taken before his time. The sadness of not being able to deal with all the conflicting feelings that swirled within him. The walls that surrounded Alexandria was supposed keep the dead and the enemy from entering, but each time the gates closed, it was as though he had chains wrap around him and bound him to the small community. He was to keep up appearances, give off the image that he was dealing with everything just fine when he was beginning to lose his own sanity.

"Glenn…" Daryl began. "I shouldn't be here. He should be."

Rick shook his head. "No. Daryl."

"It ain't no-one else's fault but mine," Daryl said. "If I hadn't hit out at Negan, Glenn would still be alive."

"Negan was the one who held the bat," Rick stated. "Not you."

"He was gonna be a dad," Daryl whispered. "He has a baby on the way, man."

Rick allowed Daryl the silence to get the emotion out. Daryl fought the tears that overwhelmed him, and he looked away to deal with them in his own way. Emotion was never a strong point for him, and the voice of his domineering father spoke in his mind. _No son of mine is gonna be a little crying wimp_. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly until white stars began to fill the darkness.

"We need you, Daryl," Rick replied, laying a brotherly hand upon the hunter's shoulder. "But we understand that it's hard for you right now."

"Ya don't need me."

"We do."

Daryl wiped his face tiredly and let out a small whimper. Rick wrapped his arms around Daryl who seemed to falter at the contact. Rick understood the battle. The guilt. The sheer responsibility for something that was out of their own control.

"What we do now is important," Rick filled the silence. "We deal with this together. We mourn together. We're stronger _together_."

"We weren't strong then," Daryl said, moving away from Rick. He was defeated by his own emotion, his own guilt.

"No, we weren't. But we will be again. It's what we become now that counts."

Rick and Daryl remained in the woods until the sun came up. They sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts as they thought of the events that led up to today. The loss of Glenn and Abraham spoke volumes, and Rick understood that neither one of them was invincible. Threats were everywhere, and they had dealt with quite a few of them in the past. He thought of Jenner, of how one man's decision could have impacted their entire life. He had accepted death, and was willing to say goodbye to everything he had known, and the very thing that had protected him from the world outside had been the very thing to take him out.

The farm had been bliss for them all, but it held a dark secret. The search for Sophia had uncovered more than just the stumbling figure of what was once a little girl with a bright future coming out of the barn. It had revealed a man's belief of the new world, of his hope that the dead would come back. It had exposed just how cruel the world could truly be.

Their fight against The Governor and Woodbury had been something that Rick still dreamt about even now. It was the beginning of his descent into madness. He had found it difficult to overcome the betrayal of his best friend, of how another man's lack of mercy could destroy everything they had built. The prison had been destroyed by The Governor and he had to leave behind the ghost of Lori along with the utter devastation of lost friends and lost hope.  
Terminus had been a place where it claimed to be a place of salvation when it held a dark reality. It had shown Rick just how damaged the world and its remaining survivors were. It was a place where he realized just how far gone humanity truly was.

And then Alexandria had welcomed them with open arms, and they quickly adapted to life within the confines of a pristine suburban life. It had a few difficulties in the beginning, but it soon became home for them all. It offered them protection and safety from the outside world. It had restored Rick's faith in humanity, but it was also a place where he realized just how closed off the inhabitants truly were to what happened behind the walls. And now the threat of Negan had influenced their lives, as well as the pure destruction the man caused without a second glance.

"Let's head back," Rick whispered. "You need sleep."

Daryl nodded tiredly, and they both trudged back to Alexandria. The sky was lighter and the birds tweeted in the distance, blissfully unaware. The journey back home was a quiet one, with both once again lost in their own thoughts, and the effects of no sleep was slowly beginning to creep onto Daryl.

As the walls of Alexandria beckoned them, they were aware of the rumbling of an engine being cut. The trees and branches gave way and that was when they saw it.

Large vehicles parked outside the gate of their home. One lone whistle filling the air around them, and an overwhelming feeling of nausea washed over them. Rick glanced at Daryl who did not return his look of worry. It was written all over his face.

"You're early," Rick said, coming past the front of the first truck.

Negan jumped animatedly. A sick smirk was playing on his mouth. "I missed you."

Rick stood with Daryl behind him. Negan was stood with his cronies spread around him stood poised with weapons fixed in their hands.

Negan gave a shrug. "I don't know about you but this," he motioned around him and towards the closed gate, "isn't really the warm welcome I was expecting."

Rick moved towards the gate, his gaze fixed on Negan, and banged his fist against the metal barricade. The gate rolled open revealing Michonne. Without another word, Negan motioned for the trucks to move into Alexandria. He strolled past Daryl, the smirk still playing on his mouth. He stopped in front of the hunter and touched his jaw.

"You know, I could kill you now for what you did," Negan spoke in a cheerful voice. "You've got one hell of a right hook. Jaw's still clicking."

Negan moved through the open entrance, leading the trucks into the compound. He looked around in awe at the houses that stood proud behind the tall wall. Rick and Daryl followed the trucks as the gates closed behind them.

It was as if a silent warning bell signalled around Alexandria as the inhabitants descended out of their houses in silence. Negan was practicing his swinging ability just as they came to stand around him, his people and the heavy trucks that blocked the exit. Rosita and Eugene were stood together, their expressions strained. The cuts to Eugene's faces were healing and were being replaced with faint bruises. Aaron, Carl, Michonne stood watching Negan practicing his swing, the memory that seemed to invade their minds and dreams replaying repeatedly. Carol, Morgan, Spencer, Olivia and the rest of the Alexandrian's stood around.

Negan looked over the supplies his men carried out to him. He motioned for his men to pat down Rick and the group to ensure that they were not hiding any more weapons or supplies from him. A soft hum escaped Negan and Rick watched him from afar.

"More of this and we can be on good terms," Negan commented.

The strained faces of everyone standing around seemed to cause Negan to stand still. Negan recognised the faces he had met before, those who had been on their knees before him, crying and frightened. It was true what they said; 'the eyes are the window to a person's soul'. Their eyes gave them away.

He looked at the faces of the people he did not recognise and smirked. The people who had not been there would never know what the others would have to contend with for the rest of their lives. The nightmares, the flashbacks… and it had all been down to him. He moved his attention to Rick, and chuckled.

Rick understood it then. There was no way out. Negan would always be the puppet master and they would always be dancing to his tune. He was their leader now. And the last pieces of hope that Rick had within him disappeared.


	4. To The Victor The Spoils

Chapter Three: To The Victor The Spoils

 _'Blood is thicker than ignorance_  
 _Blood is richer than oil_  
 _But love is what's truly significant_  
 _To the victor the spoils_  
 _To the kids who can toil_  
 _To the kids who can work_  
 _Know that nothing's worth shit 'til it's difficult_  
 _And nothing don't heal 'til it hurts'_

 _To The Victor The Spoils – Kate Tempest_

 _The ground beneath him was cold. The air around him was thick with apprehension. His shoulder burned, causing shivers to cascade through his body as he felt the slickness of blood covered his grubby body. The pain was unbearable, and he breathed as deeply as he could to try and take his mind away from the searing pain that exuded through him. He felt defeated. He had been overpowered, with his crossbow now in the hands of a man named Dwight._

 _"Take a damn look!" Negan hollered at Rosita who looked anywhere but at the blood-soaked baseball bat that had just bludgeoned the man who she had loved and who had broken her heart. Anger seemed to pulse throughout Daryl as the man continued to berate Rosita with the bat in her face._

 _He found himself lunging for Negan, his fist connecting with the man's jaw. As soon as he was up and at Negan, his men had swarmed him and threw him to the ground, pushing his wounded shoulder further into the dirt._

 _"Oh, no," Negan began. "That? Oh, my! That is a no-no."_

 _Negan paced around in front of them. He continued. "The whole thing – not one bit of that shit flies here. Do you want me to do it? Right here. No… No, you don't kill them not until you try a little. And anyway, that's now how it works."_

 _He pointed Lucille towards the remaining survivors, at him especially. A smirk played on his mouth. "Now, I already told you people – first one's free, then – what'd I say? I said I would shut that shit down! No exceptions. Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important."_

 _He paced a little, his footing calculated and his mind racing as he looked into everyone's eyes. "I need you to know me. So back to it!"_

Daryl woke in the darkness and laid there, blinking. His breathing was erratic, his heart thumped against his rib cage and for a moment he believed it would burst through his chest and roll onto the ground. He continued to lay there mostly out of fear before he pulled himself out of the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. Droplets of sweat dripped down onto the wooden floor and he tried to calm his breathing.

The pain in his shoulder was the first thing to return to him, and he closed his eyes as it began to throb. He laid a calloused hand upon it, and felt the familiar stickiness of blood upon his skin. He found strength in his legs and traipsed to the bathroom where he closed the door behind though there was no one in the house with him. The stitches had been pulled, and the wound was now open and bleeding. He could not shake the feeling of being suffocated, like roots of a tree wrapping itself around his throat and lungs and each time he inhaled, desperate for a breath, it would tighten around them and squeeze the life out of him.

The cool night welcomed him as he exited the house, the feeling of anxiety easing somewhat. His eyes moved to the watch tower where Michonne was keeping watch. His feet began moving towards her, and at the sound of his boots upon the ground, she glanced down at him. Her brows furrowed as she took in the strained expression on his face. She beckoned for him to join her and felt relief wash over her as he climbed up slowly.

Daryl took a seat on the plastic stool and watched as Michonne gave one last look around at the street outside the wall. She placed the binoculars on the ground next to her as she took a seat.

"You look shitty," she commented.

"I know."

Michonne bit her lip. "How are you holding up?"

Daryl shrugged. Since they returned, Daryl found that all conversations were strained. No one knew what to say to each other anymore. No one wanted to talk about what happened, but to talk about anything else other than that felt wrong. There was no doubt he had let Glenn down. He had let them all down.

"It isn't your fault," Michonne spoke, sensing his mind wavering.

"So, everyone keeps tellin' me," Daryl muttered.

"But you don't believe it," Michonne whispered.

"I dreamt about it again," he muttered.

"That's normal," Michonne replied. "We all dream about it."

Daryl fell silent as he pondered her words. It felt like he was going through a secret battle, alone and segregated. Everyone was dealing with it in their own way, but he wondered if it was better to talk about it or continue going down different roads that all led to the same destination.

"Don't dwell on what happened. No one blames you. What happened was horrific and tragic, but it wasn't your fault. You can't keep that guilt when it's not yours."

Daryl nodded, fragile from the unwelcome emotion. Michonne's shift ended and Father Gabriel took her place. Both her and Daryl walked back to their individual houses, where she laid a friendly hand upon his arm. She offered him a genuine smile, one that spoke volumes to him, and they parted ways.

He slipped into bed and as he closed his eyes, sleep welcomed him with open arms. Except, as soon as his breathing became laboured and he fell into a deep slumber, he was confronted with the same nightmare as if it had been waiting for him to return.

 _"I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out, and it is gross as shit!"  
_

* * *

It was a couple of hours later and Carl and Enid were lost in the woods. Emotions had been running high in Alexandria, and Enid had found a similar comfort to Daryl. The woods were quiet and peaceful, and her mind was able to focus on something other than the great loss felt within Alexandria. Not only had Glenn died, but Maggie had found salvation at Hilltop. Enid felt like she had been left behind, and even though it was not that way, she could not help but feel forgotten.

"I can't be behind that wall, Carl," Enid sobbed. "I see him everywhere."

Carl remained quiet as he allowed Enid to cry it out. She had been holding it in for so long, that he found himself wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into an embrace. Sadness racked through her body and he stroked her hair gently.

They remained there for some time, holding each other.

A small collection of whistles surrounded them suddenly, and Enid froze in Carl's arms. Carl held her close and cast a protective gaze towards where the whistles were coming from. Like wolves creeping out of the shadows, Carl watched as three men dressed head to toe in black sloped out of the woods. He did not recognise them but he knew instantly who they belonged to.

"We are Negan," they recited routinely, circling around them.

Large knives were in their hands, and Carl could see the malicious grins upon their faces. He held Enid close to him and pulled out his own gun and pointed it at them.

"Hey, kid," one of them called out to him. He was a bearded man, with long brown hair tied back. A scar was embedded into the skin of his face, a jagged silvery line carved from his forehead along the bridge of his nose and down his cheek. "I'm hoping that's a toy gun, for your sake and the girl's."

Carl stood his ground, aiming the gun at the men individually. He stayed silent. One of them – a tall bald man – lunged for him menacingly, taunting him. Carl's finger pulled the trigger instinctively, and a bullet penetrated the man's head.

"Kid… you're gonna pay for that," the bearded man seethed, but his threat never came. A large dog came out from the bushes from behind Carl and Enid and charged towards the other man. A loud shriek escaped the man as the dog clamped down on his throat and he fell backwards onto the hard ground.

The two kids were unaware of the hooded woman coming out of the bushes and coming up from behind them, until she had passed them. They watched as the bearded man's eyes widened.

"He's been looking for you," he seethed. "He's going to find you and kill you."

The woman remained silent. She pulled out a knife, and flung in the man's direction. The sharp blade implanted itself in the man's eye, and as a scream escaped him, she shot him dead. Silence filled the woods then, and Carl and Enid could do nothing except stare at the three dead Saviour's.

It was then that she turned around, and pulled down her hood. Her eyes were narrowed and worry flashed in them. She observed the kids. A girl with long brown hair, tears staining her face, her eyes solemn. A boy with dark brown hair, a sheriff's hat upon his head and a bandage covering one eye.

She clicked her tongue, and the dog removed his teeth from the man's neck and came to sit by her feet. Blood dribbled from his mouth and landed in droplets upon the ground. She moved towards the dead men splayed out, and pulled the knife out of the man's eye and impaled it into the brain of the man her dog took down.

She returned to her standing position, a hand stroking the dog's head.

"I'm Enid," Enid introduced herself. The woman stared at her for some time, causing Enid to become uncomfortable and look away. "This is Carl."

The woman nodded but did not introduce herself to them. "This is Bones," she said, patting the dog on the head. "Why are you out here alone?"

"We've lost people," Enid found herself saying, though it did not truly answer the woman's question.

"What's your name?" Carl asked, pointing his gun at her. The woman looked from him to the gun and back again.

"You ain't going to pull the trigger," was all she said.

"Oh, yeah?" Carl pushed.

"I just have to give Bones the command and he'll rip you apart," the woman stated. "And you don't want that."

Carl's gun continued to be aimed at her before he thought better of it and placed it back in his back pocket. The woman nodded.

"Violet," the woman said, introducing herself.

"Are you with a group?" Carl asked. The woman shook her head, and moved back towards the dead men. She pulled them up, her eyes meeting their dead ones. Violet let go of their bodies, where they crumbled back down on the ground. She took off her backpack and found her notebook.

Carl and Enid watched as she scribbled furiously on a page.

"Have you been with a group?" Carl asked. The woman stopped writing and looked at him.

"You ask a lot of questions," she commented, closing her notebook and placing it back in her bag. "But yes, I was."

"How long have you been out here?" Enid asked.

Violet was quiet for a second. "A long time."

"Are you hungry?" Enid inquired. "We can give you some food. In return for saving us."

Violet thought for a moment before she nodded. Her stomach growled and she hoped that neither one of them had heard it. They trudged back to Alexandria, with Enid and Carl leading the way. Violet and Bones walked behind them. A feeling of uncertainty washed over Violet as she stared at the backs of the two kids. She glanced down towards Bones who seemed to share her doubt.

As they moved out from the clearing, Violet could see a large wall blocking the rest of the road. Abandoned cars lined the pavements outside the barricades. A figure could be seen over the wall, binoculars in hand and a rifle stacked against the barrier. They were watching her through the binoculars, before they called out for someone.

The gate was pulled back, and Violet was able to see the emptiness of the compound. A man, dressed in a shirt and jeans, came into view. His bright blue eyes met her brown ones, and she noticed the holster attached to his hip. His eyes moved from hers and went over to the boy. Enid and Carl entered the compound, just as her and Bones came to a stop.

Enid was the first to turn around, then Carl and the curly haired man. Enid beckoned her in but Violet remained where she was.

"Dad," Carl began. "This is Violet. And Bones."

The man identified as Carl's father watched her. His eyes scanned over her. His eyes recognised her.

"She saved us from some Saviours," Enid finished.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked the woman, stepping forward. Bones reacted, and Violet clicked her tongue. The dog settled down at her command.

"Not enough."

"How many people have you killed?"

"Countless."

Rick nodded. "Why?"

"I have to." 

* * *

Author's Note: Hi! Thank you for reading. This is my first Walking Dead fanfiction, I really hope you like it. Please let me know what you think!


	5. The Dark End Of The Street

Chapter Four: The Dark End Of The Street

 _'_ _At the dark end of the street  
That is where we always meet  
Hiding in shadows where we don't belong  
Living in darkness, to hide alone  
You and me, at the dark end of the street  
You and me'_ _  
_ _  
The Dark End Of The Street – Percy Sledge_

Rick Grimes had adopted Deanna Monroe's interview phase in order to get to know Violet better. She had entered the Alexandria Safe Zone with hostility, which for Rick was completely understandable. He, himself, as well as his friends had been unreceptive when entering what seemed to be a relatively quiet and reserved neighbourhood. He remembered when he was in her shoes, being welcomed into a compound that seemed to have been unaffected by the outbreak, and thus was closed off from the outside world.

He watched as Violet sat in the armchair, her body tense. Her hands were placed upon her lap, still. Her eyes had found the three exits as soon as she had sat down, and he noticed that from where he was stood. It was clear that she was uncomfortable, just as he and his group had been when it had been their turn to sit where she was currently sat.

Bones sat by her feet. He was a Great Dane, and was obedient and attentive. He was sensitive to the sounds outside with his ears moving in different directions.

Rick entered the room, and Violet met his gaze as he took a seat in the armchair opposite her. "Excuse the camera," he reassured. "It's something that we do here."

Violet's attention moved over to the camera. It was daunting, and she was incredibly uncomfortable knowing that it was filming everything that she did. Rick followed her gaze and sighed quietly.

"You forget it after a while," he commented. "This is just for the files. Between me and you, that's all."

"Tell me about yourself."

Violet's attention remained on the camera. She took a deep breath. Bones seemed to sense her anxiety and rested his head on her lap. This seemed to be enough for her to move her gaze onto Rick.

"My name is Violet Cooper," she began. "I'm… twenty-nine years old, I think."

Rick looked downcast for a small moment.

"I worked in a veterinary office before this," she added. "I had a mother, father and brother."

"How long have you been out there?"

"A few months," Violet replied. "Eight, I think."

"Where were you before?" Rick questioned, his curiosity unwavering.

She was quiet for a moment. Her eyes darted towards the exits briefly before her eyes glanced back to Rick. He offered a small reassuring smile knowing that she was uncomfortable by the question. Rick took that quiet moment to look her over. She was the woman that both he and Daryl had seen in the woods, but sitting just a few feet away from her, she was not what he had expected. Layers upon layers of dirt painted her face, with the only visible part of her face being the whites of her eyes. Her hair was matted, scraggly and dishevelled. Her clothes were unkempt and frayed.

"It's a place called The Sanctuary," she spoke, and she watched his demeanour change. "I'm guessing you know the place. If you haven't already then, you're bound to be acquainted sooner or later."

"We know them," Rick whispered, trying to find his voice.

"Why do you need this 'interview'?" she asked, ignoring his input. "I'm not staying here."

"It's just a log of all the survivors we've come across," Rick explained.

"Seems like a lot of wasted time."

"We have a lot of that."

Violet's response was silence. She was calmer now, but there was a rattle within her that she was unable to shake. Nowhere was safe, not anymore.

"Thank you for participating. It will be helpful to those who find it." Rick concluded the interview. "What's your next plan, may I ask?"

"I don't have one," Violet said. "Wherever the wind blows, I go."

"And that works for you?" Rick asked, intrigued.

Violet gave a swift nod. "It's better than being stuck some place because of loyalty."

Rick was surprised at her admission. He wanted to ask her about it but did not want to make her even more uncomfortable.

"We have a generator which means that we have running water," Rick said. "And you can use the showers as well. I'll grab you some clean clothes, too."

Violet looked down at her clothes. She had become immune to scents the longer she was outside, and she had found that the more dirty and unclean she was, the more she blended in. It was only now that she looked down and saw the grubbiness of her hands, the thick layer of dirt beneath her fingernails.

Rick excused himself, absentmindedly leaving the camera running. Violet stood and moved towards the window. Her eyes were watching the inhabitants of Alexandria as they walked by the window. She pulled out her notebook, and scribbled on the page because the sound of Rick's footsteps came closer. She threw the notebook in the bag, and returned to her seat.

Rick entered a couple of seconds later with a clean set of clothes.

"Follow me," he said, and she stood up. "There's a spare room for you in Carol's house. She'll show you where everything is."

"I'm not staying," Violet reaffirmed.

"I understand," Rick said. "Think of this as a pit stop."

Violet looked around at the small neighbourhood with clusters of houses around her. They were all well-kept and orderly, with neat and vibrant flowers decorating the front gardens. As they reached the house that belonged to Carol, Violet watched as Bones buried his nose in a large yellow flower and inhaled. She smiled warmly.

As Rick spoke with Carol, Violet overheard what they were saying. _"_ _If she tries anything, take her and the dog out."_

Rick turned to her and smiled. Violet narrowed her gaze at him. "This is Carol, she'll show you how the shower works."

Rick returned to the house, and took the camera off the tripod. He sat down on the chair, and checked over the footage. The small screen showed the tiny figure of Violet sat in the large armchair. It was strange seeing someone else within the compound. Michonne tapped at the door, and he glanced up at her with a soft smile on his face. She strode towards him and took a seat on the coffee table.

"You trust her?" Michonne asked. Rick placed the camera onto his lap and shook his head. "She saved Carl and Enid."

Rick nodded, acknowledging what the woman had done. "She did. But there's something about her. She isn't human."

Michonne's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"She's done things we will never understand," Rick started. "Her eyes give her away. She's been out there too long."

"She's seen a lot of things we have," Michonne said. "That doesn't make her any different to us. We deal with things differently to her, that's all."

"Are you sticking up for her?"

"No," Michonne answered. "But she's given me no reason not to trust her."

"In the video, as soon as I left the room, she checked the exits twice in three seconds. She's aware of her surroundings before she even enters the room," Rick explained. "She's uncomfortable. She wrote something in a notebook she keeps."

"You think she's feeding information to someone?" asked Michonne.

"I hope not," Rick began. "For her sake."

Rick made his way to Carol's sometime later. Night had descended upon Alexandria, and its inhabitants had moved to their own houses. The streets were empty and lifeless, leaving a strange sense of calm that Rick had not felt in so long. Though it was peaceful, he knew that he could never trust that feeling. It had become almost natural for him to be on edge constantly. Carol opened the door when he knocked twice. She allowed him entry into her house, a distinct scent of cookies baking in the air around him.

Carol moved back into the kitchen just as the oven dinged, and Rick climbed the stairs and moved to the room Violet had taken. He knocked and knocked, but there was no answer. He knocked once more, and opened the door slowly and carefully as to not wake her if she was sleeping. He switched on the light, and the room confirmed his suspicions. The room was lifeless. There was no sign of her or Bones. And the clothes he had fetched for her remained on the bed, folded neatly and untouched.

He pulled the walkie-talkie from his belt. "Daryl, you there?"

" _Here_ ," Daryl's voice came over the radio.

"We need to find Violet," Rick said. "She isn't in her room."

" _On my way_ ," Daryl called out.

There seemed to be nothing out of place within the confines of Alexandria. Lights were on within every house, shadows moving past each window as the curtains were pulled, the distant chatter of those on watch. Everything was normal, or at least it seemed to be normal. Daryl walked the streets with his crossbow in his grasp, his eyes searching every dark corner of Alexandria. He walked towards the small lake, and he came to a stop.

Two dark figures were sat upon the bank. He pulled out his radio.

"Found her by the lake," was all he said as he placed the radio back into his pocket.

Rick came to him a few minutes later. They stood watching her. She was staring out at the water, Bones asleep by her side. She had laid out all of her weapons in order of size, and was cleaning them in the water. Rick stepped closer which alerted Bones and the dogs ears perked up.

"You know there's a bed for you?" he asked, to which she stopped what she was doing and turned slightly to his voice.

"I'm fine here," Violet replied.

"Right."

"As soon as the sun comes up, I'm gone," Violet began. "No need to get comfy."

Rick nodded. "Thank you for saving my son today."

Violet turned to face him. From her position, she understood that he was unable to see her face. She was able to see him fully.

She said nothing but only shrugged in response.


	6. Devil Side

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. I'm hoping to upload another chapter before Christmas but if I don't, I just want to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas!

* * *

 _Chapter Five: Devil Side_

' _Run and hide, it's gonna be bad tonight  
'Cause here comes your devil side  
It's gonna ruin me  
It's almost like, slow motion suicide  
Watching your devil side, get between you and me'_

 _Devil Side – Foxes_

Bones' wet snout nudged Violet. Though he was a Great Dane, he was gentle when it came to her. She had stumbled across him when they had both needed something to bring them back from the brink of death. She was beaten, scarred, mutilated and broken, stumbling through the woods when she had found him tied to a post, bones evident beneath his skinny body, and about to be devoured by the dead. They had both been weak and both accepting the inevitability of death, when they found each other. No one had come back to get him nor were they protecting him from the cold and hot weather. He had been outside, tied to the gate of the house and abandoned.

It was sometime later when his owners had come back, except they were not in the same condition as they had left in. Hands that used to stroke him were now hands clawing at him hungrily. He had been scared and he had whined as they crawled closer and closer to him, and then nothing.

A woman, naked and defenceless, had stumbled out from the woods and had taken the dead down without another blink. It was as if it was natural to her, an instinct. From then on, he became hers, and he followed her and protected her, just like she had done with him.

He nudged her with his nose again. She woke up instantly, her eyes flicking to him. "What is it, boy?" she whispered, a hint of tiredness in her voice. They had settled down on the bank near the lake, both of them finding it easier to relax without being in the confines of four walls. She listened to the silence for a moment and finding nothing untoward. But there was a slight sound of a thud upon the ground in the distance, and she turned her head towards the sound. There was more of it happening around her, and she sat up slowly. Bones' ears were perked up in alert still.

The sound was increasing, and she was able to identify the sound as being a foreign one. The dead all sounded the same, as did people. But this noise was one she had not heard in a long time; like a swarm of bees closing in. It was her sound for danger.

A black figure whizzed by them, and they watched from their position in the shadow of the thick trees that enclosed the lake. Bones remained planted in the same position and by her side. Violet watched as more black figures sped by them, their feet pounding the streets of Alexandria as quickly and quietly as possible. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, and cocked her head to the sounds of more feet thudding against the concrete.

"Find Rick," Violet ordered to Bones quietly. "Stay low, stay hidden. Go."

Bones took off quickly, following the direction of the cloaked figures. She moved quickly, her feet strategically taking her out in the open. The streets were empty as if nothing untoward was happening. She looked towards the watch tower, finding no one stood up there and guarding the compound. She bit her lip in frustration and moved towards the house she had been placed in. Violet opened the back door slowly, creeping inside as she checked the surroundings of the interior.

"You don't have to point your gun at me," Violet said. "It's dark but I can still sense you."

Carol turned the light on, her gun moving away from her. She looked at Violet with a narrowed gaze, taking in the months worth of dirt upon the woman's clothes and skin. She was about to make a comment but Violet stopped her.

"People are here."

"Who?" Carol asked, worry etching across her skin.

Black shadows moved across the front windows and Violet pointed to them. Carol and Violet moved closer to the front of the house and watched as a neighbour opposite the house exited their domain only to have a knife be plunged into their chest from a looming figure behind them. "You know them?"

Realisation hit Carol like a freight train. "They call themselves the Wolves."

"The Wolves?" Violet scoffed.

"We need to do something," Carol said. "We have to tell Rick."

"Already in motion," Violet said, and that was when Carol noticed that Violet was alone. "I don't know about you but I ain't waiting around."

Carol nodded. She moved into the closet that separated the kitchen and living area, and pulled out a bag of guns. "Here, take these."

Violet moved towards them and observed the array of guns; rifles, handguns, shotguns. "Quite the collection."

Violet refused to take any from Carol who handed her a couple of handguns. The woman did not question it, and equipped herself with the weapons she needed. "I only use them if I need to," she said, pulling out a large knife.

They moved towards the door, and Carol opened it with a deep breath. Her neighbours were being slain in their very beds and gardens, and Carol felt an overwhelming sadness within her. Violet noticed the change in her demeanour.

"It's either you or them," was all Violet said before she slipped into the darkness.

* * *

Scratching had woken him and as Rick descended down the stairs into the main area of the house, the sound only became louder and more frantic. He looked out of the window on the door and saw nothing. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, his eyes meeting the eyes of Bones. The dog was sat on the doorstep and as he saw Rick, he stood to his full height, a desperate whine escaping him. Rick furrowed his brows.

"What is it?" Rick asked, as if expecting an answer. Bones looked away and towards a loud cackle that filled the air. Rick stepped outside and saw black figures filling the street outside. Bodies were strewn across the lawns, injured and unmoving.

It was bedlam as Rick raced upstairs to wake Michonne and Carl up from their slumber, warning them about the dangers outside. They quickly dressed and grabbed their weapons before exiting the house, with Bones in tow. They were soon joined by Daryl who had heard the commotion outside as the sound of Alexandrian's being slain filled the night air. They came round the corner in time to see a man come up behind Violet and knock her to ground before he straddled her, thrusting his knife towards her throat. She struggled against him, but it only made the knife be pushed further into her throat.

Bones made no sound before he raced towards his owner and her attacker. He closed the distance between him and them in a matter of seconds, and Rick and the others observed as Bones launched himself at the man, his teeth embedding into the man's throat and knocking him completely to the ground. A gurgled yelp escaped the man and then silence. Movement ceased, and the man lay dead on the ground.

Rick and the others ran towards them, individually taking down the intruders they came across.

Violet lay still on the ground for a moment, her eyes staring up at the starry sky. She stood slowly, her hand moving towards the fresh cut on her neck and feeling the slickness of the blood trickling down her skin. She never met any of their gazes, as she moved towards her dead attacker and stomped on his head a couple of times, anger beginning to take over.

Violet met Rick's gaze. And without a word, they all worked together in sync to take down The Wolves that invaded their homes and murdered their people. It all seemed to come together as they worked together, and the numbers of the Wolves dwindled down to none. A search was conducted to find any more stragglers that could be hiding within Alexandria but the search came back with nothing.

The remaining survivors of Alexandria were all stood outside on the streets. The bodies of the Alexandrian's who had fought and had died at the hands of The Wolves were still around them, as well as the bodies of The Wolves. Rick and the others were acknowledging the devastation of what had occurred.

Violet was stood still with Bones at her feet. Anger coursed through her veins.

"No one was on watch," she said causing Rick to glance at her.

"It appears to me that you've been cut," Eugene commented, speaking out instead of Rick. All eyes moved towards Violet who touched the wound to her neck. "No. Your side is bleeding."

She scowled at him, moving her attention to the wound on her side. Blood seeped through the material of her clothes, and she lifted her top up. The wound was deep but she did not feel any pain from it. She was aware of everyone staring at her, and pulled down her top.

"Seven months," Violet began, moving the conversation away. "I was out there for seven months and nothing bad happened to me. Less than a day here and look what happens. This place is a mess. I was told people were on watch at all times, obviously that's bullshit. I'm surprised that you've not lost anyone before now."

A collection of gasps sounded around her. She took in their solemn faces and shook her head.

"Oh," she said. "So you have lost someone. I'm not surprised."

Rick stepped forward. "That wasn't our fault. Neither was this."

Violet scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that. Keep telling yourself that those walls keep the monsters out. They don't."

Anger seemed to boil within Rick's veins. "What Negan did was not our fault!"

The name seemed to cause a stir within Bones, and his heckles raised protectively. He moved towards Violet, protecting Violet from the people around her. Growls escaped Bones as his eyes never moved away from Rick.

Violet clicked her tongue and Bones fell silent.

"Who did you say?" Violet said quietly.

Rick glanced towards Bones. "Negan."

Another growl escaped Bones, almost like a warning. Violet's reaction to the man's name was something that seemed to stick with Rick. The way her entire body tensed, the way her eyes widened, the way her breathing hitched. It was clear to him that she was affected by the mere mention of his name, and it intrigued him.

"Do you know him?" Rick asked, stepping forward.

Violet took a step back, clenching and unclenching her hands. She looked at the faces all staring at her. Her voice was small but Rick was able to hear it distinctively: "Yes."


	7. Bare

_Chapter Six: Bare_

 _'_ _Home we are  
Don't wash me blue  
I'll endanger this fire  
A poisoned fume  
Now I'm done, stay clear  
Play it out loud on this  
I've spent too long blind  
And now I'm trying to hurt you'_

 _Bare – Wildes_

She had missed taking baths. She was the epitome of a water baby; never scared of any body of water, having won swimming competitions all through her school life, spending as much time as physically possible being in water, and finding comfort in water. Violet remembered always being in water, whether it was swimming pools, lakes or even her own bath, and feeling free as the water embraced her and soothed her. The world now was not an ideal place for comfort, and she had closed that chapter of her life a long time ago.

The bathroom was small and quaint, which meant that it was difficult to navigate her way around it anyway without Bones lying down on the floor and taking up the majority of the tiled flooring. She smirked as Bones gave her a guilty look and tapped him on the head affectionately.

The clothes that Rick had given her sat on top of the toilet seat. She scanned over them and furrowed her brow. Violet could not remember the last time she had new clothes, as most of the clothes she had found had been well worn by others. The clothes sat upon the toilet seat looked brand new and clean, which Violet was not used to for a long time. Part of her was excited at the prospect of getting out of the tattered and dirty clothing that adorned her body for months on end, finally stripping away that layer.

Violet began to unbutton her top, as the sound of water filling the tub filled her senses, and her eyes automatically meeting her reflection in the mirror. She noticed the layer of grime that stained her face and neck, as well as the fresh blood seeping from the wound to her neck. Her hair was matted and unkempt, and she remembered back to the woman she used to be. Of the life she used to lead.

So much was different now. The world was different, and nothing could reverse the effects of the outbreak and bring back any normalcy. Violet thought of her old friends and family then, and felt a part of her died all over again. The one person who had been with her when the world had gone to shit had been taken from her, and she had been living with the guilt and sadness since. It plagued her heart like a black cloud, following her around and appearing when she was most vulnerable. Her parents were across the country in Montana, and contact with them had been shut off within a couple of hours. Her brother Peter had been staying with Violet when the outbreak happened. He'd just graduated college and was spending the summer with Violet before he moved to Chicago to start a job at a law firm.

They had found their way together through the dying world, trying to find a new hope when the one before died. They had stuck together through thick and thin, and that was their downfall. Violet could see that now.

Violet stripped off the last article of clothing and turned off the faucet. Soap and bottles of body wash sat along a shelf above the bath, and she scanned them from her fixed position. She stepped in slowly, feeling the warmth of the water welcome her foot and then her entire body. She sat in the bath, the water covering the majority of her body except for her head. Bones came to sit next to her, his eyes looking down into the water.

She allowed the water to comfort her, relaxing every muscle. The condition of her body was not the best, and she understood that. She had been running away for so long that her body still carried her even though it was giving up slowly. Violet took a deep breath and her entire body sank beneath the water.

She opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling and at the light fixtures above her. She remained submerged underneath the water for some time, her ability of holding her breath going hand in hand with the contentment that the water brought her. She closed her eyes, but was immediately ambushed with images of Negan, the bloodshed and torture he was capable of doing, the face of her brother.

Violet reemerged from the water, panting for breath and her chest heaving. Bones nudged her arm with his nose. "I'm fine, Bones."

She took a deep breath, reaching up towards the shelf at the soap. She washed herself clean, watching as the mud, blood and dirt washed away from her body like a painted canvas being destroyed by rain. The clear water that she had sat in was now a muddy shade of brown, disgustingly dull of color.

It took a while for the filth to truly be cleared from her skin, and as she stepped out of the bath, her feet touching the soft material of the bath mat, she looked down at her body, clear of any blemishes except for the scars and the wound to her side. She moved towards the mirror once more, her gaze meeting the gaze of her reflection as she saw the deep scar that started from the side of her mouth and reached up over her cheek where it came to an end on her ear lobe. The scar was nasty and it had been a deep wound. She remembered the blood that gushed from it, staining her entire neck and chest with the crimson liquid.

Her fingers touched the jagged scar, and her breathing became shallow. The feeling of the cold blade that Negan had used could be felt upon her skin, and she closed her eyes, gripping the sink with both hands to steady herself.

Violet opened the bathroom cabinet, her eyes scanning the contents. Her eyes fell on a pair of hair scissors. She grabbed them out, closing the cabinet where her reflection met her once more.

"Don't look at me," she whispered to her reflection. Her voice was abrupt and full of anger.

* * *

 _"Remember when mom made me sit in the kitchen to eat my dinner because you kept making me laugh so hard she thought I was going to choke?"_

 _Violet let out a laugh. "I do… although I do protest that it wasn't my fault that you laughed!"_

 _Peter pushed Violet playfully, which only caused her to laugh harder. They were walking down an empty highway; vehicles were parked either side of the roads, clothing and bags were discarded on the concrete, and a deathly silence filledthe air around them. The world had grown so quiet now that the sound of laughter was foreign to them. Birds tweeted in the skies oblivious to the true horror that occurred on ground level. The world was different in every sense. If you were not running from the dead, you were running from the living. It was as simple as that._

 _In the weeks that came after the global outbreak, Violet had seen the world crumble around her. The future that she had planned, the partner she was hopefully going to marry, the children that she was going to bring into the world, had all faded away as soon as the radio transmissions fell silent. She still clung onto the hope that the world would right itself but as soon as the dead started to walk was when she realized that the world she had so much hope and love for had quickly become her enemy._

 _One hundred and ninety five days._

 _A little under twenty eight weeks._

 _Six and a half months._

 _They had both spent weeks walking from Florida to Atlanta. Their destination was the CDC, which according to broadcasts when they were still able to get a connection had told them that the army had set up base there and were welcoming survivors. It took them thirty nine days to reach Atlanta. Four miles on foot every day had caused their body to become exhausted._

 _"We're nearly there, little brother," Violet whispered, seeing the sign for Atlanta in the distance. The vehicles they had found on the way had allowed them some respite, but like the luck they had so far, it was not long before they were back on foot again._

 _"About time," Peter smirked. They walked for a couple more miles, following the highway round until it brought them into the city. Relief washed over them as they came to a stop. The CDC was stood there in the distance, a welcoming beacon of light in their darkness. The dead were stumbling around outside, a huge barrier between them and refuge. "Can we get through them?"_

 _"We didn't trek all this way to be killed now," Violet replied. "We just do what we've had to do to get here."_

 _Their own actions had scared them. The cost of survival was high, and that meant doing unspeakable things just for the promise of one more day. It had sickened them to their stomachs but like most things now… it had to be done._

 _"Do you think the base is here or at Fort Benning?"_

 _Violet was not sure. "I'm hop-"_

 _An explosion rang out through the streets of Atlanta as the Centres for Disease Control and Prevention was engulfed in fire. Windows shattered and thousands of pieces of glass began to shower around them like confetti floating down around them. Peter had grabbed Violet tightly and pulled her away and behind a vehicle as smoke billowed throughout the streets around them. The onslaught of materials flew around them covering a long stretch of distance._

 _"No, no, no..." Violet murmured to herself as the roaring fire that was left in the place the CDC once stood danced frantically. The after shocks from the explosion gave way, and from their place on the ground and behind a large vehicle, moving vehicles came from behind them and sped away as quickly as the engine could take them. Violet and Peter watched them drive off into the distance but made no effort to move._

 _"Are you okay?" Peter asked, making Violet look at him. His hands were cool against her face. She stared at him for a moment before nodding, her eyes scanning the fresh cuts on his face. "You're bleeding."_

 _Violet tenderly touched her face and noticed that she too had been hit by shards of glass as they ricocheted through the air and in all directions. She brought her hand back and saw blood on her fingertips._

 _"It's gone," she whispered. Violet stood from the ground, her balance unsteady. Peter kept a watchful eye on her, more worried about her than the burning remains of the CDC._

 _"We'll keep moving," Peter said, reassuringly._

 _Violet let out a laugh but Peter was able to tell there was no humour in it. Tears stung her eyes. "It's gone," she repeated, mostly to herself._

* * *

A knock at the door sounded causing her to jolt back to reality. A small sliver of fear pierced her heart as her mind raced to Negan. She gripped the bathroom sink tightly to keep her upright as she allowed herself to breathe in and out deeply. Bones was up on his feet and sniffing underneath the door.

"Violet… it's me, Michonne," Michonne said. "Are you decent?"

Violet stared at the door in the reflection of the mirror for a moment before her eyes gradually moved to her own reflection again. Her hair was shorter, jagged and uneven. The scissors she had used sat near the faucets. She glanced to the floor and saw the matted ponytail on the tiled floor. She wrapped a towel around her body.

She moved towards the door, motioning for Bones to sit, and when he did, she unlocked the door and opened it. Michonne's eyes automatically went to the scar on her face. Violet saw the small change in Michonne's expression and though it only flashed across her face for a split second, Violet picked it up.

"I have a medical pack for you," Michonne said, tearing her attention away from the scar on Violet's face.

"Thanks," was all Violet said as she took the medical pack from the woman.

"Rick's hosting a small dinner in memory of those we lost today," Michonne added. "It would nice if you could join us."

"I'll think about it."

Rick had not expected her to come to the meal that evening. He had spoken to Michonne sometime later after she had returned from giving the medical pack to her, and he had noticed a change in her. She was quiet and distant, and he wondered if something had happened. He had approached Michonne and had asked her if everything was okay, to which she had reassured him that everything was fine. He left it at that.

The rest of the group joined them soon afterwards, and they had all found their own seats at the table. He had held off serving food until he was sure Violet joined them. He was sure that she would not turn up, and was surprised to hear a small knock sound as well as the sound of a small bark to notify their arrival.

As he pulled back the door, allowing his gaze to move over her, he noticed that she was cleaner than the last time he had seen her. Her hair was short, unevenly cut and curly.

"You came," Rick said, opening the door further.

"I couldn't say no," Violet replied, motioning towards Bones who whined next to her.

Rick smirked. He motioned for Violet and Bones to enter, and as they did, Rick noticed the scar on her face. He remained quiet as she walked past him and into the house, and watched as Bones instinctively sniffed the floor. Violet's attention was pulled towards the people sitting around the table, their conversations hushed at the sight of her.

As the awkward silence filled the room, Violet became even more uncomfortable. She took a seat closer to the door, and Bones settled by her feet. Chatter slowly resumed around her and she watched them all individually. Bones sensed her anxiety and glanced towards her. He nudged her hand with his nose, and she stroked his head gently. The chatter around her was becoming too much for her; she was not used to being around so many people all sat around a table and waiting for dinner. It was a strange concept after being out in the wilderness for months on end, just having Bones be her only companion and defending them both against the living and the dead.

Her heart pounded against her chest, a cold sweat formed on her face, and her throat felt restricted which caused her breathing to become labored and shallow. Her vision swirled, becoming blurry and she began to feel dizzy. Cutlery clanged as she stood abruptly from her seat. "I can't do this," she said, allowing the urge to escape the house guide her out into the empty street outside.

She breathed heavily, the street whirring around her. Bones was following her as she made her way down the street, her destination unknown. Footsteps could be heard behind her, and she did not turn to the sound of her name being called.

"Violet, stop!" Rick called out to her. She continued moving, the need to escape taking over. A hand reached for her and touched her shoulder. She spun around quickly, her eyes narrowed and intently staring at Rick. He pulled his hand back, as if burned.

"How can you try and be normal?" she found herself asking him.

"It's just dinner," Rick commented back.

"I can't do this," Violet repeated. "I need to leave. I don't belong here."

"Okay..."

"Thanks for everything," Violet began, rushed. "It's been a _pleasure_."

Rick remained outside on the street with Bones sat by his feet as Violet disappeared into the house to retrieve her belongings. She was gone a matter of seconds before she reappeared, her belongings in tow. As she exited the house, she saw that Daryl was stood with his crossbow next to Rick, their eyes upon her and mouths speaking quietly.

"Can we give you some food?" Rick asked, motioning towards Daryl who held a plastic tub of the meal Rick had cooked. Violet glanced from him to the tub and shook her head.

"We're okay," she muttered. She led the way towards the gate, with Bones following next to her. Rick pulled the gate open as Violet watched him. Daryl stood behind her.

"There you go," Rick said, to which Violet gave a short nod. She stepped forward and crossed the threshold, turning back to face them.

"Good luck in this world," Violet said. "You're going to need it."

Rick and Daryl remained silent as she and Bones walked away from Alexandria. Like a tornado, she was in and out of their lives quicker than he had expected.

A walker came out of the shadows and stumbled towards Violet, and Rick and Daryl's instinct kicked in and they gripped their respected weapons. But their instinct did not seem to be needed as Violet pulled out a knife and sliced the head off the walker without batting an eyelid. He threw a look towards Daryl and closed the gate with a clang. Daryl nodded solemnly as they returned to the house.

Rick could not shake the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. She didn't need them but they needed her.


	8. Closer

Author's Note: Hi guys! I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year! There is a small story in this chapter that is called 'Our Apple Tree' by Shel Silverstein, and it's a must read! Hope you enjoy the chapter and I would love to know what you thought of it!

* * *

 _Chapter Seven: Closer_

 _'Driven by the strangle of vein_  
 _Showing no mercy I'd do it again_  
 _Open up your eyes_  
 _You keep on crying_  
 _Baby I'll bleed you dry_  
 _Skies are blinking at me_  
 _I see a storm bubbling up from the sea'_

 _Closer – Kings of Leon_

 _The loss of hope in regards to the CDC was a major blow for Violet. She had spent weeks building the confidence of them both leaving the protective confines of her home in Florida to travel to Atlanta in hope that they would be able to get some answers, and a clearer vision of what the world could be. It had been two weeks since the CDC was lost, and their next plan of action was unknown._

 _And the horrible realization that came with the loss was that nowhere was safe. The hope she had for the CDC was no more, and the loss of finding somewhere safe for her and her brother was painful. The promise of a way out to the devastation the world was in now was gone._

 _They had continued walking. Their destination unknown. The hope within them dying with each day, with each straggler they came across. They continued in silence mostly, with both lost in their own thoughts. Conversation consisted only of questions that only required small answers, 'Do you want water?', 'Shall we set up camp?', 'Are you okay?'. They realized that they did not need words to fill the air around them, and found that it provided them with extra protection against the dead. They used signs with their hands and eye contact. The dead were unassuming of them, and it helped them move without gaining unwanted attention._

 _Except one day they did._

 _A low whistle surrounded them in the woods, and they came to a stop, their eyes scanning the trees around them. They glanced at each other, blood pulsing in their ears as fear gripped their hearts. It continued for some time, growing closer and closer with each whistle until it was deafening. Violet and Peter stood back to back, their weapons poised and ready to take on whoever came out of the covering the trees offered._

 _A man with a leather jacket came out first. Violet watched as he swung a baseball bat around freely. "Well..." he said, staring at them both. Violet took in the slicked back hair, the greying beard, the laughter lines around his eyes, the barbed wire wrapped around the bat. Anxiety wrapped itself around her throat like roots of a tree wrapping around her and squeezing the life out of her. The whistling ceased, the deafening silence filling the void._

 _"It is a pleasure to meet the both of you," he continued, eyeing them up. "I've not seen one like you in a long, long time."_

 _Violet avoided his gaze. He stepped closer to her, his eyes burning her skin._

 _"There's no need to respond like that. Look at me," he said. "I don't bite… hard."_

 _Violet looked at him, and met his gaze._

 _"See? That wasn't hard, was it?" he asked, to which she shook her head. "Now… what I would like to know is why you're both alone in the woods."_

 _It was more of a demand than a question, and Peter turned to look at the man. "We're staying away from the road."_

 _The man kept his gaze on Violet and raised the bat to Peter's face. "Did I address you to speak?"_

 _"No, bu-"_

 _"No… no, but you're still going to try and speak, aren't you? I was looking at her. So she speaks," he said disgustedly. "You can shut that hole in your face."_

 _He smiled animatedly at Violet. "Now, why are you both in the woods together?"_

 _"We're staying away from the road," Violet repeated what her brother had told the man._

 _The man narrowed his gaze at her, musing over what they had both told him, and looked over towards another man standing not far from Peter. "Simon… what do you say? Do we give them a chance, huh? Let them join our little gang?"_

 _He looked back at Violet with a smirk on her face. "Because if you're like me, letting this one go isn't what I want to do."_

* * *

In the days that came after her departure from Alexandria, she was aware of Daryl coming back into the woods. She kept herself hidden in the foliage, watching as his eyes scanned the surrounding bushes for movement, for her. She watched him from afar, with Bones at her feet and as quiet as a mouse, taking in his dishevelled appearance. As soon as the woods swallowed him up, they spat him back out and she never saw him or any trace of him.

She had taken refuge in an old cottage. It was derelict and all signs of life had been taken away. Violet understood that it was once a family home, well looked after with a sprawling garden that children and pets loved to roam. She could see a family in her imagination; a typical nuclear family of husband, wife, daughter and son driving down the long drive towards the house, seeing the once blooming flowers cascade down the white picket fence, with an apple tree blowing gently in the wind. They would exit the car and bound down the stepping stones towards the house, and feel the warmth and comfort the house offered and feel proud of the life they had built for themselves.

Now, it sat empty. The photo frames that hung on the wall were dusty with photographs of people beaming towards her, captured in a moment before the world went to shit. Their once happy life forever frozen in time. The wallpaper was beginning to peel, the stairs covered in a coating of dust, and the dining table still prepared for dinner. The smell of food that had been abandoned hung in the air, and she could hear the buzzing of flies around it. She made sure she had thrown it outside, closing the patio doors behind her.

She examined the house, investigating the safety it offered. It was not great but it would do, for the short term. Bones settled down on the couch, taking refuge. Violet smirked and moved into the downstairs bathroom. She noticed the paleness of her skin and the beads of sweat on her forehead. A searing pain came from her side, and she laid a hand over the covered wound and took a deep breath.

Life for her resumed, and she cooked the rabbits that she and Bones had caught, and they settled in to their first night in the cottage. Sleep found them quickly but dreams evaded her.

* * *

Daryl had found comfort in spending time with Judith. The need to go into the woods and venture in the wilderness had been taken away from him, and he understood that he needed to be more present with those around him. He entered her room and smiled as she stood up in her cot, a beaming toothy grin on her face. His heart swelled a little at the sight of her curly hair and her wide brown eyes.

"Hey little ass ki-" Daryl paused, suddenly feeling that his nickname was innappropriate now that Judith was approaching the age where she would understand. "Princess..." He corrected himself, but cringed a little whilst saying it. He vowed to find a more appropriate name for her but one that represented her inherent badassery.

She lifted her arms up for him to pick her up, and he hesitated a little. He stood there for a moment before he lifted her out of the cot and held her in his arms. "Ya got heavy," he commented, acknowledging that the last time he had held her was when she was a mere few days old.

She reached for his face and he let her touch his beard. He snorted and pretended to bite at her fingers, to which she squealed in delight. He smiled at her and continued to play for a while.

"Book," she said, her soft and young voice filling the room. Pride swelled in his chest at how grown up she was becoming, the once vulnerable baby becoming a toddler who was unaware of such a world.

He placed her on the floor, and watched as she moved over to her book corner and pulled a book out from the small shelf attached to the wall. He took a seat and rested against the wall, where she ambled over to him and passed him the book. She then took a seat on his lap.

He opened the book and the words swirled in front of him on the pages. He panicked internally, the voice of his father berating him in his mind. He took a deep breath about began to retell a story his mother would always read him.

"A long time ago, there was a huge apple tree. A little boy loved to come and play around it everyday. He climbed to the treetop, ate the apples, and took a nap under the shadow," he began telling the story from memory. Judith listened intently at the story and pointed at the pictures enthusiastically.

A figure stood in the doorway and Daryl looked up just as he finished the story. A genuine smile was on Rick's face as he listened to the story that Rick had just told his daughter.

"Book," Judith said, moving over to her bookshelf and pulling out another one.

"You've started it now," Rick smirked. The voice of her father caused Judith to turn to him and bound over to him excitedly.

"Da-da," she said as he lifted her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Guess what time it is," Rick said. "It's sleep time for you little one."

She buried her face in his chest and he chuckled. He moved over to her cot and laid her inside it. She yawned sleepily, defeated. Daryl put the books back in their rightful place and stood at a distance away from the father and daughter.

"Kiss Uncle Daryl goodnight," Rick said and Judith became shy. Daryl moved over to her, lifted her hand and touched fists with her. He ruffled her hair, before moving towards the door. Rick kissed her on the head and moved out of the room as Judith played with her toys. Rick closed the door, and the two men moved over to the watchtower in silence.

Once they were settled and ready for their shift, Rick turned to Daryl. "You ever wanted kids?"

Daryl pondered the thought for a moment. "Yeah, I did. But kids deserve to be kids, y'know. This world ain't for them."

Rick nodded sadly. "You would've made a great father," he commented genuinely.

The inhabitants of Alexandria soon went to bed, their doors locked and lights turned off. This was Daryl's favourite time of day where there was a blissful sense of calm that descended over them, where no sound could be heard, and no disturbance in the streets. The walkers moaned outside the wall but they had become almost like background sound, blending in with the sound of the wind or the sound of his breathing.

He found that over time, Rick and Daryl did not need words to fill the silence for they were comforted just by the company they had.

As the early hours creeped upon them, Rick stood and did a general scan of the streets outside Alexandria. Movement in the distance caught his eye and he did a double take. A figure was racing towards them, bounding tirelessly to the gates. He motioned for Daryl to stand and they watched the figure come closer to them, escaping the thin blanket of darkness.

It was Bones, and he was alone.


	9. Slip

_Chapter Eight: Slip_

 _'I won't keep watching you_  
 _Dance around in your smoke_  
 _And flicker out_  
 _You're not the light I used to know_  
 _I don't believe in safety nets_  
 _Strung below that make it alright_  
 _To let go_  
 _You gotta hold on'_

 _Slip – Elliot Moss_

The appearance of Bones had caused shockwaves to go through Alexandria. The dog was a loyal companion for Violet, having never left her side during her stay with them, and to see him on his own with no owner in tow, it seemed strange to comprehend what had happened. Wherever she went, Bones was right there. He never strayed too far from her, as she allowed him to walk ahead around Alexandria. As the gate was opened for Bones, Rick and Daryl noted that the dog remained on the other side of the gate, his rump firmly sat on the ground. A low whine escaped from him as his eyes stared directly into Daryl's eyes.

Daryl turned his attention to Rick for a split second, and as he did, a sharp bark escaped the mutt. Daryl returned his gaze to the dog, and narrowed his eyes.

"What is it, boy?" Daryl asked, as if the dog would start speaking like a human to him. He got a high-pitched whine in response. "Are you in danger?"

Bones began to dance around on the ground, his energy rising. He began to bark, almost like communicating and trying to tell the two men what had happened. His attempt at conveying his stress was blocked by the barrier of communication, but from the movements of the men as they began to follow him without another word, Bones could lead them to where they needed to be.

"What do you think it is?" Rick asked Daryl, as they moved into the thick brush the woods had to offer.

"No idea," Daryl replied, his footsteps quick as he tried to keep up with Bones. "It ain't gonna be pretty, that's for sure."

"You think Violet is hurt?" Rick questioned, to which Daryl shrugged.

"His reaction would say that," Daryl answered, his eyes travelling around his and Rick's surrounding area. The woods, though he found comfort in them most of the time, had dangers that were not often seen. Walkers crept out from behind trees; feral animals hid within the bushes; the enemy could take refuge in the shadows. With Bones racing through the woods and his body being engulfed by overgrown foliage, Daryl felt uneasy. He had not returned to the woods in a few days, having given up hope of finding her, and Bones had been the one to come to them. That could only mean one thing: Violet needed help.

He remembered his first dog. At the age of eight, he had been out in the woods behind his trailer home with his dog, Max, when he had fallen out of the largest tree he believed to be in existence. He had seriously injured himself and could not move properly. Max had sniffed his face, almost giving him the comfort he never received from his parents, before setting off for help. Max had returned with Merle, who had equally raced to his side. The love of a dog knows no bounds, and it proved itself time and time again.

As Rick and Daryl came out of the thick tree brush, they noticed Bones sniffing at the ground. Daryl whistled, capturing Bones' attention instantly.

"Where is she?" Daryl asked, to which Bones resumed sniffing at the ground and leaves from large overgrown plants.

It only took a moment to pick up her scent, and he bounded in the direction he came from. Daryl and Rick picked up their pace, and followed Bones as he led them to an old, shabby house. It looked out of place in the thick brush. It was a two-storey house, with an overgrown garden with various coloured flowers growing high. Wild roses bloomed near the window. Bones padded up the porch, as Daryl and Rick readied their weapons.

Bones led them into the house and up the stairs. The doors to all rooms were shut except for one that had been left slightly ajar.

Daryl pushed the door open gently, allowing Bones entry into the room. Daryl and Rick were cautious as they entered, and their eyes widened slightly as they took in the state of the room. Blood stained the bed and rug, and Rick threw a concerned gaze over at Daryl. He motioned towards the bed, where a visible head could be seen. Bones whined sadly as he took in the woman slumped against the bed. Daryl moved around the bed and took a deep breath as he took in the sight.

Violet was slumped against the bed. Beads of sweat formed on her brow, her skin was almost translucent, and her hands that once gripped her side to stop bleeding had fallen to her side. Daryl knelt, cautiously touching her forehead with the back of his hand.

"She's burning up," Daryl informed Rick. Bones barked, moving towards her injured side. Blood had seeped from her injury, staining her hands and the rug beneath her. Bones sniffed at the wound, which caused Daryl to lift the shirt she was wearing to show the wound to her side. A foul stench came from the wound, and Daryl turned to Rick.

"She's got a bad infection," Daryl said. He noticed the nail scissors and first aid box next to her. "It looks like she tried t-"

A loud creak and bang could be heard downstairs, which caused Daryl, Rick and Bones to pay attention to the movement downstairs. The walls and floor were thin enough to hear everything in the house, and they heard footsteps beneath them. They were slow, with a drag to its footing. A small growl escaped Bones.

"We need to get her back to Alexandria now," Rick said, to which Daryl nodded. He stood, throwing his crossbow over his body, and lifting Violet swiftly. Rick moved to the door, and opened it up. Bones followed Daryl's command, and Rick glanced downstairs to see a male walker stumbling around the living area of the house and gave Daryl a quick nod.

 _"Kill,"_ was all Daryl needed to say before Bones raced downstairs and took down the walker. After Bones mauled the walker to death, the dog came back to Daryl's side. "Ya my weapon, yeah?"

The dog gave a small bark in response, and led them out of the house.

"He likes you," a mumble came from Violet. "And he doesn't like anyone."

* * *

 _The compound only seemed to grow with each day that passed. A handful of men soon became hundreds, and those hundreds quickly became close to a thousand. It was strange to see so many men, dressed all in black, obey the rules of just one man. Violet would spend hours thinking of how quickly he rose to power. Of how they were so willing to risk their lives to protect him._

 _Ever since she came to the compound, she was very aware of her being the only woman there. She was protected due to Negan's presence and warning to his men that she was his. She was his equal in a sense. Whatever she wanted, she got it. But like everything, it came with a price. And that price was her._

 _She hadn't seen her brother in weeks, and she needed to know if he was safe. She couldn't roam around the compound in case she escaped. There were always consequences for her actions. If she wanted to walk around the compound, she needed an escort. If she needed to go to the bathroom, she needed an escort. Negan made sure she understood that he was in charge, and if she disobeyed him, then Peter would pay that price._

 _"You know… I've never seen you smile," Negan's voice filled her ears. She was staring out of the window at the hundreds of men outside. Bars across the windows obscured her view. She didn't turn around to his voice, and it was only when he grabbed her hair to make her look up at him, she felt the nausea that never strayed too far away. "Smile for me."_

 _It took her a moment to show him a forced smile._

 _"That was a pitiful attempt," Negan said. "You may be smiling in a minute."_

 _He released her hair from his grip and moved across the room. He retrieved something from the pocket of his leather jacket, and came back over to her. He extended his hand in front of her, allowing the beautiful necklace to hang from his fingers. The silver diamond dangled in the air. It was beautiful, and exactly her style, but like everything now, it was tinged with bitterness._

 _"I want you to wear it," Negan said. A smirk escaped him._

 _"Here, let me put it on for you," he said, turning her around and placing it around her neck. He moved her in front of the mirror, and she offered a small smile._

 _"It's beautiful," she whispered._

 _"Not as beautiful as you," he whispered in her ear which caused nausea to swirl in her stomach. "As my first wife, you know what's to be expected of you. I get you jewellery and you…"_

 _Violet turned around to face Negan. She began to strip herself of the clothes she was given; a skimpy black dress that was too tight._

 _It became routine. A punishment. She understood that she had to do what she had to do to keep Peter safe, and if she didn't, Peter would always get hurt._

* * *

The small contents of her stomach was emptied onto the infirmary floor, as the infection began to take its toll. She had been brought back to Alexandria, and taken straight into the small hospital they had. Carol had been on watch as they returned, and she had quickly assigned the role onto Tobin, and had followed Daryl and Rick. Violet's temperature was worrying, and neither one of them had the qualifications to care for someone as injured and in serious need of medical attention before. They had all gotten injuries themselves over the course of the outbreak, but none of them knew what they were doing.

Carol quickly hooked Violet up to an IV, remembering Denise's words from before.

"We need to cool her down," Carol said. "She's becoming hotter and hotter."

Carol took the lead and stripped Violet of her clothes, and passing them to Rick to fold. The three of them were all aware of the scars that adorned the unconscious woman's body, and neither one of them mentioned the large 'N' marked on her hip. Anger rose within the two men but they did not let it overwhelm them. They did not know what to say, and so they all said nothing.


	10. After Rain

_Chapter Nine: After Rain_

 _'You call arrows to fall short_  
 _Because the snow is at our feet_  
 _And when embraces subside and the lilies have died_  
 _It comes down to her tears on a sheet_

 _But it's alright because_

 _You cause lanterns to light_  
 _And force demons to disperse_  
 _And if Lucifer may fear the swift drying of tears_  
 _Then for evil you could not be worse'_

 _After Rain – Dermot Kennedy_

The silence within the infirmary was deafening. Daryl Dixon was sat as far away from the others as possible, his eyes remaining on the unconscious woman and protective dog by her side. Rick Grimes and Carol Peletier were discussing what the best thing to do was. It had been decided that Rosita and Aaron would head out to Hilltop for the assistance of Doctor Carson, the doctor currently taking care of Maggie. It had become difficult since the death of Denise – the only person who had a viable medical background in Alexandria – for the rest to truly understand what the best treatment was for injuries. They would assist when Denise needed it, and observed what she would do, but it was very different being in the situation where someone relied on them, and only them.

As Rosita and Aaron ventured out in the direction of Hilltop, supplies and weapons upon their person, silence hung heavily in the air. The seriousness of the situation was unfathomable, with neither one of them knowing what to do. The severity of her injury had magnified. She was pale, sickly, and unconscious. She was hooked up to an IV, one of the only things that Carol could do for Violet. Though she was a stranger, she had been no threat to them despite the tense introductions. She had fought with them, which had shown to them that she was worthy.

The door to the infirmary opened, revealing Michonne. Her eyes immediately went towards the unconscious woman then panned towards her lover. Rick met her gaze with sorrowful eyes, and Michonne narrowed her gaze at him. There were some things that both of them did that the other questioned, with both being so guarded.

"Who is that?" Michonne asked.

"It's Violet," Rick answered.

"What happened to her?" Michonne asked, moving closer to where they were stood. She kept a cautious stare upon her. A low growl – a warning – escaped Bones, and Michonne turned to stare at the dog sat by Violet's bedside.

"Bones came to us," Rick explained. "He led us to Violet. Her wound became infected."

Michonne was silent. She noticed his tone, how he didn't go into too much detail and kept it to the point. "She gonna make it?"

"We've called for Doctor Carson," Carol was the one to speak next.

"What are the marks on her body from?" Michonne asked, observing the numerous burns adorning her body. Cigarette and cigar burns irritated her skin, as white scars that had healed were scattered across her body. Violet had been stripped of her clothes due to the fever being unrelenting, and the cool air seemed to help keep her body temperature normal. They were aware that having Violet be so exposed, with her scars and flaws on show wouldn't bode well with her, but they had no other choice. Any type of material seemed to react negatively with her skin, and they could only conclude that the infection was making her skin incredibly sensitive.

"We think Negan," Rick answered. A growl escaped Bones at the mere mention of Negan's name, and Rick used the dogs' reaction as confirmation.

"He torture her, you think?" she asked, to which Rick shrugged.

"It looks like it but we'll only know once she wakes up," Rick replied.

It was decided that they would all remain in the infirmary, keeping watch just in case she turned. Her condition was worsening, though her temperature seemed to be controlled. They watched as Bones settled once they took their desired seats. He laid on the ground, his eyes wide open and ears alert. The occasional whine emitted from him. The light from the lamp on the bedside table bounced off the dog tag around his neck, and Daryl curiously moved forward to look at it. The tag read a name that had never been associated with the dog since he had first encountered him or Violet.

"Huh…" Daryl began. "The dog's real name is Dave."

* * *

 _She felt as though her entire world was falling apart. She followed behind the two men dragging her brother down to where everyone was stood around the large kiln. The huge factory floor was swallowed up by the mass of people she had only seen once or twice since her arrival, all of them waiting anxiously for the main event._

 _Peter pleaded with the two men. They ignored him and continued on their way, where they stopped in front of Negan. He stood with a sadistic smirk playing on his lips as he watched her reaction to her strong brother being overpowered._

 _"Please..." she cried to Negan. "You don't have to do this."_

 _"The iron is already on fire," Negan said. "It'd be a waste to let it go cold now, wouldn't it?"_

 _The people around her cheered, and she turned to look at them, shocked at their reaction. She turned back to Negan and shook her head._

 _"Negan..."_

 _"This is a lesson to you, my girl," he began. "You obey by my rules, and this doesn't have to happen. You didn't fulfil your duty as a wife which means there will be consequences, and oh, look... retribution must be served. Those tears aren't going to stop me from melting the skin from your brother's face, so wipe those pretty eyes of yours and learn from your mistakes."_

 _As Negan grabbed the red-hot iron from the kiln and moved towards Peter, Violet felt anger surge through her veins. She moved towards Dwight as quick as a flash and headbutted him, her hands grabbing the rifle from him. The hysteria from the sudden attack caused shockwaves to ripple through the Saviors._

 _Dwight recovered on the ground, blood pouring from his broken nose. Negan watched from afar as the scene unfolded, with Violet pointing the rifle in his direction._

 _"Put that down," Violet ordered him. A smear of Dwight's blood was on her forehead. "I will shoot."_

 _Negan chuckled at her poor attempt to scare him. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes tracing the curves of her body in the little black dress she wore, the same curves he had grown to love. Before he could comprehend what was happening, Dwight had lunged for Violet and threw her to the ground. A knife had been pulled, and as screams filled the factory as Dwight violently sawed through her cheek and all the way to her ear. Negan watched as Violet's ear lobe fell to the ground._

 _Negan stood in shock as he watched Dwight's anger take over. As Violet's screams and cries filled the air around him, Negan charged towards Dwight and pressed the iron to his face. The sizzle of his skin filled Negan's senses first, then it was the smell of burning flesh. It was a scent that he had grown to know well, and it didn't bother him anymore._

 _As Dwight collapsed to the ground, he turned to see Violet on the ground, covered in blood. The black dress hid most of it, but the crimson liquid stain her skin and the floor around her. He watched as Peter moved towards her, adding pressure to her cheek._

 _Negan always prized beautiful possessions, but now his most prized possession was flawed._

* * *

It was sometime later and Violet was beginning to stir. Daryl, Rick, Michonne and Carol had drifted off as the night deepened. Daryl woke to the foreign sound, as well as Bones' wet nose nudging him. Daryl checked the surroundings, then turned his attention towards Violet who seemed to be thrashing gently in her sleep. She was panicking, distressed over something.

Bones whined in response to her nightmare. Daryl gently rubbed the dogs head, reassuring him. Daryl could only watch and wonder from where he stood as Violet woke suddenly and slid off the bed, her body naked and bare. She stumbled over to the window of the infirmary, bumping into the chairs that held the sleeping forms of Rick, Michonne and Carol. They woke quickly, but remained still as Daryl motioned for them to not make a sound or any sudden movement.

She examined the surroundings outside, then moved to her bag. She rummaged through her belongings until she got to a book. It was then that she realized where she was, and who was watching her. She glared at Daryl, her eyes flicking from him then to the others.

"Are you working with him?" she snarled, her voice harsh.

"No," Daryl was the one to answer. "Calm down."

"Why am I back here?" she asked.

"Your wound became infected," Daryl explained. "Bones came for us."

Violet glanced towards the dog sat by Daryl's feet. Bones looked away as if guilty.

"We're getting ya help," Daryl continued. "Ya don't have to panic."

"Can you hear that?" Violet's voice was becoming hysterical, panicky and breathless. She moved her attention towards the window again, her eyes frantically searching the empty street outside.

"What can ya hear?"

"The whistling," she muttered. "It won't stop... it never stops..."

Violet grabbed at her head, trying to make the whistling stop. Daryl glanced towards Rick as silence was the only thing they could hear.

"He's always there..."

"Where is he now, Violet?" Rick asked, coming forward.

"Shadows," she whispered, which caused the foursome to glance worriedly at each other.

"You can't hear it?" Violet asked, her voice abrupt.

Daryl was the one to interject, as she realized they were all glancing at each other. "Yeah. We can. But he ain't here."

Violet nodded at him before moving her attention to her notebook. She scribbled in it furiously.

"What ya got there?" Daryl wondered.

She glanced at him for a moment. "I write down any time I hear them whistling. They're always there in the darkness. Waiting, biding their time to take me back. But I'm not going to let them take me back. If they do, I'll never make it out."

Bones began to whine anxiously. It was at that moment that the pieces began to fall into place.

"He's never going to leave me alone until I return to him. But that isn't going to happen. He's dead and he killed him. Just have to keep moving. Keep walking."

Rick took a step forward, his hands up and palms showing his surrender. "Who did he kill, Violet?"

"He took him away from me," she whispered sadly. "My brother. He's gone."

She moved back towards the window, her eyes still as frantic and panicked.

"Nowhere is safe. We have to... we have t-"

Consciousness seeped away from her, and she began to fall to the ground. Daryl rushed towards her, catching her before she collided with the floor.

A faint knock sounded at the door to the infirmary just as Daryl carried her naked form back to the bed. He laid her down gently, covering her modesty with a sheet. Rick remained inside with Doctor Carson as he examined her. Aaron and Rosita sat outside on the steps alongside Michonne, Daryl and Carol. They were all silent, exhaustion playing a huge part in the silence.

It was a while before Rick and Doctor Carson exited the infirmary. Rick's face was solemn, his expression tight.

"Violet seems to be suffering from a serious and deadly infection, however, with the right medication, she should make a full recovery," Doctor Carson explained. "I've given her some medication to eradicate the infection. However, it looks as though her condition is more serious than first thought."

"What do you mean?" Michonne asked, her brow furrowed.

"She's pregnant."

* * *

 _Author's Note: Dun dun dun! Hope you like the little twist! Leave me a review and let me know what you think!_


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